


take me back to the start

by cobblestaubrey



Series: c'est la vie [11]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, Jan is one of those people that can't be single, Post-Break Up, Stream of Consciousness, hint: badly, let's see how she deals with being single
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29524857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobblestaubrey/pseuds/cobblestaubrey
Summary: "This piano’s been sitting in her living room for the last seven years. It was expensive and from her grandmother, and that’s all she really knows about its origin, but she loves it more than she’s ever loved anything else.Well, almost. She thinks."Jan's alone with herself for the first time really ever, and it isn't fun. Not at all.
Relationships: Jackie Cox/Jan Sport (past)
Series: c'est la vie [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979863
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	take me back to the start

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a WHILE, but I’ve been thinking about this series for a while, even though the new season is airing, and I really just wanted to finish it off. I don’t know when the final story will be out, but here’s the second to last part - Jan’s story. 
> 
> As always, thank you to drivingmecrazy for being the greatest friend ever and always talking about drag race with me and giving me inspiration for stories. You're a g <3

The ivory below her is heavy and cracked, yet not a single one is out of tune. 

This piano’s been sitting in her living room for the last seven years. It was expensive and from her grandmother, and that’s all she really knows about its origin, but she loves it more than she’s ever loved anything else. 

Well, almost. She thinks.

She lifts her hands from her lap, gently laying them on the keys. She has no metronome, so she takes in a deep breath, listening to the slow beating of her heart, and begins to play a song she’s known for far too long, and played too many times. 

Her voice is shaky, and she can just barely catch her footing on the first notes. No one is home, so she lets the sound reverberate through the room and out the windows. 

She hopes someone can hear her.

“I had to find you, tell you I _need_ you,” she’s shaking, letting her tears splash down, but it’s only the second fucking line. “Tell you I set you apart…” 

Jackie will never come home to her again. The taller woman will never walk through that foyer, gently place her bag down on the kitchen counter, and let out a sigh that shakes the room. 

It has been months since she lost Jackie. Months since she told herself that she was fine, and tried to move on with another girl who didn’t give a shit about her. All she ever wanted was to be happy and to be loved, but Gigi was right. She didn’t even know what she wanted.

She didn’t even  _ love _ Jackie anymore, yet every song she played came with another voice, whispering in her ear. She’d close her eyes and see the mornings they spent together, their chairs pressed closely in the library. Clear images of Ferris wheels rides at the fair or rides out into the countryside of their small county, they battered against her. 

What does it mean to miss a person who doesn’t really exist anymore? 

Jackie isn’t sixteen and a half, spending her free time at Jan’s side, or posting stories on her  _ Instagram _ about the stupid things Rock used to say when she was high. 

She’s surprised it’s the one social media Jackie didn’t block her from, but she’s somewhat glad for the ability to see what she's up to now. 

No she isn’t. She’s sick of stalking Jackie’s page like some crazy ex-girlfriend, almost five months after it all happened. 

Sometimes, Jackie posts pictures with Nicky. Jan has doubled and triple checked, there are none with them kissing or holding hands, and Nicky, although commenting extremely flirty things (“that’s just her nature”, Jan tells herself), hasn’t called Jackie a pet name. 

_ God _ , she thinks, willing herself not to slam her head against the keys,  _ I’m such a loser. _

The thoughts never quite leave her mind as she meanders around the chorus, letting herself break into the second verse. 

“But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me,” she has to swallow after that. It’s becoming too much.

She’s never felt so alone, even with Brita keeping her company, and her other friends she sees once every few weeks outside of school. 

_ “Jackie!” Jan flinched at the sound of the woman’s voice, too loud next to her. _

_ “I’ll be down in a second!” _

_ She rocked back and forth, listening closely to hear Jackie’s footsteps leave her room and approach the stairs.  _

_ Her heart was pounding. She shouldn’t have been there, she should have been at home, or at the school.  _

_ Far, far away from Jackie.  _

_ Jackie was humming down the hallway, which warmed Jan’s heart. The taller girl had been almost mute for the last few weeks -  _

_ Because of her  _

_ \- but this was a change of pace.  _

_ Until she finally rounded the corner. _

_ Jan bit her lip, saying nothing, but let Jackie stare back at her as long as she needed. Luckily, her mother had walked away minutes ago, fussing over something in the kitchen, leaving the two girls to continue with unwavering gazes. _

_ “Jan…” Jackie breathed out. _

_ It was the first good look at Jackie that Jan had taken in weeks. She had no makeup on, which wasn’t new, but the blonde could see that her eyes were sunken in, just a bit. Her clothes hung looser on her body, unironed and mismatched. Despite looking like her entire world might have collapsed, there was a light in Jackie’s eye when she looked at Jan.  _

_ Special, was the first word that sunk into Jan’s heart. _

_ Jan took a step towards the stairs, waiting for any sign that Jackie wanted her to stay.  _

_ Jackie stepped down, grabbing the railing, before stopping. Her mother was still audible, clanking together pots and pans.  _

_ With a subtle nod to the left, Jackie made no sound, turning back around to walk towards her room.  _

_ Of course Jan followed.  _

She wonders if Jackie’s room looked the same. If her curtains were still that deep maroon, or if the photos framed around her room stayed. 

She knew the answer already. Jan’s face would never see the light of day in that room again, in any capacity.

That night is one of those defining nights, where Jan and Jackie talked for hours, about how the blonde felt, about fear, about  _ love _ . It was the night Jan confessed that she was in love with Jackie, too, but had been too afraid of feeling anything to commit. 

_"You love me?" Jackie had asked, in the smallest voice Jan had ever heard._

_How could she not, is what she thought, picturing the dates Jackie had taken her on, the hours she had spent making Jan feel like the most beautiful girl in the world._

_Instead, she answered, "More than anything," which felt right at the time._

Sometimes she'll let herself picture being with Jackie again. The warmth of the woman's arms wrapped around her waist, the smell of home on all of her clothes. 

On even rarer nights, she'll picture Crystal, who she can never tell if she really wanted, or just wanted to want her back. Those nights are worse, because she can't get Jackie's face out of her head from those following days. She promised Jackie she would never hurt her so bad again.

So she hurt her worse, instead.

It's the same thing every single day, torn between knowing that she doesn't love Jackie, or hoping that she comes back so she doesn't feel so alone. 

“No one ever said it would be so hard,” is the last phrase Jan is able to croon out before she slams twelve keys at once, far too hard for the piano to handle. 

Nothing is harmed, but she feels infinitely bad. Disappointment floods through her body, tears continuing to cascade down her face. 

She can’t trust herself to be alone with her own thoughts anymore. 

But she can’t keep relying on these stupid girls that she tries to love, or those choir boys who want nothing more than to take her out, or her friends who will tell everyone else’s story before their own. 

Something inside of her is so broken, so inherently out of place, but she can’t put her finger on it. It isn’t like when one key is off in a chord. That’s clear as day to her, there’s nothing easier than that. 

What can she do, though? What can she possibly do to fix this? 

She remembers Jackie saying something about Rock and therapy, but she can’t imagine doing that herself. She can’t imagine telling her mom, who already pays for her voice lessons and her phone bill, that she needs help, because she can’t fix herself this time. 

Instead, she covers the keys with the piano case, and pushes herself away from the instrument. The bench shrieks against the floor, causing a terrible sound to echo throughout the room, not. 

“Me too,” she mutters, patting the bench. “Me too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> And there we go, now just one more left! Crazy! This isn't the best or longest story by FAR, but that's not what I was trying to accomplish, so it's fine. I just enjoy the fact that out of the six girls we've seen, four have now ended up in some sort of relationship (Nicky and Jackie not so much, but close enough), but Crystal and Jan ended up alone (so far... O_o). However, Crystal's story was all "Well, I lost my first and second loves, but there'll be other loves :)" and Jan, instead, has to learn that while there ARE other loves she'll experience, she needs to be able to be alone with herself, first. 
> 
> Fun fact, The Scientist's BPM is 74 BPM, which is well in the range of the average heartbeat. If Jan really did play the song in time with her BPM, it wouldn't sound too fast!


End file.
